


Undeniable

by hostilovi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7679896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilovi/pseuds/hostilovi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you think? Kise sent when Midorima remained silent.</p><p>You look good, he nearly replied, because it was the truth. Die, he selfishly wanted to reply because he didn’t know what to do about his heart beating so quickly over a mere picture, nor the unbidden memory of their hands touching.</p><p>You’re an idiot, he comprised. Don’t cancel at the last minute, next time.</p><p>Oh ho, so you did miss me! I knew you would~</p><p>Midorima really did ignore him this time, heat rising up his neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undeniable

Midorima couldn’t place, exactly, when this  _thing_  with Kise had started.

For as irritating as he could be, he wasn’t difficult to get along with. None of the Miracles were, to his mind, even if they didn’t always see eye-to-eye on matters. Truth be told, ever since Kuroko brought them back together again, they had been getting along better than ever.

But this  _thing_  with Kise was troubling him.

He caught himself spinning his pencil between his fingers, over and over, and grimaced, setting it aside.

Graduation was coming up. That’s what he should be focused on. Graduation and entrance exams to universities. They had all briefly discussed their plans for the future. Some, like Aomine and Kagami, intended to continue basketball through university in the hopes of going pro. Some, like himself, were not.

To his surprise, Kise had been one of those who chose not to pursue basketball.

“I’ve got my modeling,” he insisted with a grin. “And I won’t be able to do that forever, so I had better get it all in now, you know?”

He texted Midorima later that night, fretting.

_Should I go pro? Would it seem like I was just chasing after Aomine?_

_Do what you want,_  Midorima had replied curtly.

_Mean!_

He was always texting Midorima, always calling him. Midorima didn’t understand why. As Takao had told him, many times, he wasn’t exactly the best conversationalist.

He was working on that. Sort of. He was expected to have a good bedside manner as a doctor, anyway.

Midorima picked his pencil back up and returned to his note-taking.

The texting and calling wasn’t new. His more frequent answers weren’t exactly new anymore either.

Midorima’s eyes drifted to the few photographs he kept up on his wall. One of the team from their Teikou era, one of his Shuutoku team—and one of the Miracles, reunited. It was Kise’s face he was drawn to out of all of them, his wide smile and confident posture. Next to him, Midorima looked positively stiff and taciturn.

He remembered the brush of Kise’s hand against his as they waited for Momoi to take the picture, remembered the way Kise shot him a wink when his head whipped around towards him at the touch.

What did it mean?

Ever since then, Kise had been paying more and more attention to him, spending less time chasing after Aomine or pestering Kuroko or chatting with Momoi. And this included physical attention; brushing up against him casually, touching his arm or shoulder in passing, standing on tiptoe to whisper comments in his ear. Every so often their hands would touch, as if on accident, but every time Midorima glanced his way, Kise was smiling like a cat who’d gotten the cream.

If it was anyone else—if  _he_ anyone else—Midorima would think he was flirting with him.

But he couldn’t possibly be, which left them instead with this unnamed  _thing_  between them.

His phone buzzed and he reached for it automatically, expecting Takao.

_Midorimacchi, did you miss me at yesterday’s meetup?_

Midorima nearly ground his teeth.

 _No,_ he lied easily.

_Mean! And here I even took a picture to show you how hard I was working!_

Kise sent the picture anyway, after a little more back and forth. It was flattering, as all pictures of Kise seemed to be, albeit a little blurred.

Midorima saved it to his phone, despite his intentions to ignore it.

 _What do you think?_ Kise sent when Midorima remained silent.

You look good, he nearly replied, because it was the truth. Die, he selfishly wanted to reply because he didn’t know what to do about his heart beating so quickly over a mere picture, nor the unbidden memory of their hands touching.

 _You’re an idiot,_  he comprised.  _Don’t cancel at the last minute, next time._

_Oh ho, so you did miss me! I knew you would~_

Midorima really did ignore him this time, heat rising up his neck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was Kise who arranged the lunch meetup, which should have had him suspicious from the start, but Midorima thought the invitation seemed innocent enough. It was for the whole group, not just him, which made it safe to accept.

 “Has no one else arrived yet?” Midorima asked, looking around cautiously when he arrived. He wasn’t  _that_  early.

“Turns out the others couldn’t make it,” Kise said, not looking the least bit disappointed. In fact, his smile looked positively coy. Midorima cleared his throat and sat in the chair across from him.

“We should have rescheduled,” he said, looking down at the menu in favor of avoiding Kise’s intent gaze.

“What, don’t you want to spend alone time with me?”

“Not particularly,” Midorima replied, because it was the easiest thing to say, the closest thing to the messy truth. Kise pouted theatrically before reaching out and lightly touching Midorima’s hand where it lay on the table.

“I know you don’t mean that.”

He withdrew before Midorima could think to jerk away from the touch. They ordered from the waitress, she brought their order, all in an uncharacteristic gap of silence from the other man.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what will happen to us when we split up for university,” Kise said, toying with his straw.

“That’s not like you,” Midorima responded without thinking.

Kise blinked in surprise. “Not like me to what?”

 _To worry._  Midorima furrowed his brows, staring down into the depths of his tea. “To think,” he said bluntly.

“Midorimacchi,” he groaned, “I’m being serious. Anyway, I know you’ll probably be going somewhere far away, so even if the others couldn’t make it, I wanted to see you most of all.”

Most of all. Midorima swallowed hard, uncertain of what to say. Of what to do with his hands, laying awkwardly on the table. He fiddled with his lucky item for the day, a cat plush toy. Yellow. It had made him think of Kise when he was getting it, and he was regretting the choice now. He was regretting coming at all.

“My first choice is in Tokyo,” he said in hopes of shoving those words from his brain.  _Most of all._ “It’s not that far.”

 “Tokyo? Really?”

“That’s where the top medical school is.”

“Oh, I know the one! We should totally get an apartment together!” Kise exclaimed with wide eyes, slapping his palms on the table for emphasis. “My modeling agency has headquarters right nearby!”

When Midorima didn’t respond, Kise sighed and made a show of rolling his eyes.

“C’mon, it’s a  _great_  idea! We already know each other so neither of us have to worry about unknown roommates, we can easily split the cost, and—it’ll be great! I know it will be.”

The promise of a familiar face was tempting.

The promise of close quarters with a man he just recently realized he was attracted to—much less tempting.

“I’ll think about it.”

Kise whooped, as if he had agreed to it. The conversation turned back to safer topics, but Midorima’s mind was stuck on the fact that Kise wanted to live with him.

For convenience, he reminded himself.

But he still wanted to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Graduation came and went. Midorima got into his first choice of universities.

He found himself agreeing to go look at apartments with Kise. There was no harm in just looking, surely.

“You look nice, Midorimacchi!” Kise said, almost sounding surprised.

“As opposed to how I usually look?” he asked stiffly, heat flaring up his neck at the compliment anyway. Kise always looked well put together no matter what, so it was no surprise to see him looking fashionable today. Kise frowned.

“No, silly. Just, I only ever see you in your school uniform or basketball clothes usually, you know? This is nice.” He touched the collar of Midorima’s shirt, pulling it straight. His fingers brushed against Midorima’s neck as he did so, making him tense up. There was something soft about his golden gaze, something sweet in the curve of his lips. “Brings out your eyes.”

Midorima cleared his throat loudly. “We should get moving.”

Like that, Kise went back to normal. He dropped his hand and smiled one of his five-alarm smiles and led the way to the first apartment.

 It was a tedious process. Most of the apartments all looked the same and Midorima’s mind was mostly on the long train ride home than really paying attention to the apartments. This was just a formality—he would politely decline Kise’s offer of being roommates, he decided as they approached the last one of the day. It would be for the best.

 But then they stepped inside.

It was perfect. In every possible way. Midorima crossed the threshold and felt—something. Felt like this was a place that could be home.

As they walked to the train station together, Kise elbowed him gently.

“What do you think, Midorimacchi?”

“The last one,” he said at once. “I think we should get the last one.”

 _We._  There was a small thrill at saying that. Kise beamed up at him.

“That was my favorite too.”

So it was decided. They would move in together in the fall, when Midorima’s classes began. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living together was…pleasant.

Kise made for a courteous roommate, and proved to be a decent enough cook where they didn’t have to order in constantly. Midorima took over the job of cleaning up after meals so that the chores would be more evenly split. He found it relaxing, he insisted when Kise worried that it would make his beautifully taken care of fingers all pruney.

Beautiful. That was his exact word. Even thinking about it now made a hot flush rise up his neck.

He had stopped taping his fingers at the start of his classes. It still felt strange to be without them, still caught the other Miracles glancing at his hands when they met up, but he was growing used to it.

The classes themselves were difficult, but no more than expected. He rose to the top student position with the appropriate amount of effort, and stayed there, undefeated.

Kise always crowed with delight over his marks, like a proud mother hen. Even though Midorima found it embarrassing, it was also nice, to be so appreciated.

The  _thing_  with Kise had only been getting worse.

They were getting along just fine. Better than fine. But this  _thing_ —not a crush, he stubbornly refused to think of it as such—

It wasn’t going away like he thought it might.

It didn’t help when Kise did things like fall asleep on his shoulder halfway through watching movies together. It didn’t help when Midorima fell disastrously ill halfway through his first semester and Kise cancelled a job in order to stay with him at the hospital. Or when he walked around shirtless, bemoaning his lack of anything to wear, and wouldn’t Midorima help him pick something out?

He never did.

Kise never stopped asking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The kiss came unexpectedly, partway through his second semester.

Midorima had gotten home later than usual.

“I’m home,” he called out, softly, in case Kise was already asleep.

He should have known better. Kise appeared around the corner with a smile. “Welcome back,” he said, and he kept moving towards him even though they were swiftly running out of personal space and then his hands were in his shirt and  _oh—_

Kise kissed with the same passion he played basketball, with the same skill. Midorima couldn’t move at first, too shocked. He should have pulled away.

Instead he kissed him back. Tentatively, hesitantly, but Kise pressed forward eagerly into his touch.

When Kise did back off, they were both flushed and panting for breath.

Midorima didn’t know what to say. His heart was pounding loud in his ears and his skin was buzzing with the feel of Kise’s skin.

Kise laughed, a little.

“Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t,” Midorima said, soft, soft.

“I was waiting for you to get a clue, but then I realized I might be waiting  _forever_. Like until we were old men, and I couldn’t bear that, so I just—” he took a deep breath, hands still fisted in Midorima’s shirt. “Please, if you’re going to reject me, do it gently. I’ve liked you for a really, really long time. I know you probably want to say ‘die, Kise,’ like you always do, but please, for my sake, just be a little nicer.”

Midorima’s hands were trembling as he reached up and placed them over Kise’s, carefully unwinding his fingers from the fabric of his shirt. Kise made to pull them away but Midorima held on, keeping their hands trapped between them.

“I’m not going to reject you.”

He didn’t know what else to say. Kise was looking at him with hope in his eyes now.

“Then,” Kise licked his lips as he paused, and Midorima  _knew_  he was staring but he couldn’t pull his eyes away, “you like me too?”

Midorima nearly choked.

“C’mon, you gotta tell me or I’ll never know for sure,” Kise’s voice was teasing but there was worry there, in his expression. Doubt. Midorima lifted his hand to adjust his glasses, realized he was still holding Kise’s hands and let it drop again awkwardly.

“There is an undeniable attraction,” he managed to say. “Between us.”

“Is that Shintarou speak for ‘I like you too’?”

Midorima shivered at the sound of his name on Kise’s lips.

“Yes,” he said, feeling stretched taut like a rubber band that might snap at any moment. “It is.”

Kise laughed again, leaning forward against Midorima’s chest. The feeling that he might snap faded. “I like you,” he said, voice muffled. “I like you, I like you, I like you.”

“I heard you the first time.” Midorima frowned. “Are you crying?”

“N-No! That would be—ridiculous, and you don’t like ridiculous things—”

“Wrong. I like you.” It was easier to say the second time, even if his ears were red.

“Are you calling me ridiculous? Mean,” he said, leaning back again, eyes sparkling with tears but his lips stretched wide with a smile, “that’s mean, Shintarou.”

This time it was Midorima who started the kiss.

“I’m allowed to call you that now, right? Shintarou?”

“If you must.”

“Sheesh, there’s not one romantic bone in your body, is there?” Kise playfully punched him, before wrapping his arms around him. Midorima sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head on top of Kise’s.

“Die, Kise,” he murmured quietly, not really meaning it.

Kise only held on tighter.

Safe in the knowledge that Kise couldn’t see, Midorima smiled.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
